I am plagued by a question,
“Who am I?”
I answer, “I am Kaesi,”
but is that who I am?
after all it’s just a name
that’s not what makes me who I am
so it must be something else.
Upon pondering this I realize,
What proves I am at all?
It lingers, that question
I am, I reassure yourself
I must, but the evidence to support this
is something I just can’t recall
People ask, “Who are you?”
Other’s know they are,
So the question seems light, like it’s something
that can be stated in a word or with a name
but it’s all superficial when what you still question is
If you really are at all.
I’ll have an answer to the question.
I’ll have to.
How can one live without knowing if they are?
And I wonder that
maybe there is no answer
and I will, just like any answer
to any unanswerable question,
maybe everything I’ve ever been and ever will be
and everything I decide to do will all be the answer to who I am
that I am what I remember
what I feel, what I think
but for now I still don’t know
If I am or am not.
So I sit and I wait
for the chance that maybe, one day,
I will answer their questions “Who are you”
and my own, “Who am I”.
With “Yes” and smile knowing, with full assurance
that it is true.